Sherlock In the Mountain
by S.B.N.O
Summary: Sherlock gets in an argument with John. Afterwards he meets a familiar face and is forced to a world that can't possibly be real. Rated T for language and blood.
1. New

Random crossover my sister and I came up with. I don not own anything! Enjoy!

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"John, believe me I am sorry. I didn't think he would have a gun," Sherlock declared following his flat mate. The doctor stopped and turned.

"Yes, you thought he was too much of an idiot to even know how to properly close a window. Now go home and stop following me Sherlock!" John angrily barked. He continued walking leaving the consulting detective behind. He looked at the ground as he turned leaving the veteran to his thoughts.

"Well, that could have gone better couldn't it?" a slightly amused voice asked. Sherlock turned with a frown. Jim smiled widely as he stepped forward. "John's so angry, seems like he doesn't want to talk to you. Shall we?"

"What? Take a walk like to normal people who aren't trying to kill each other? Of course, after you," the musician replied walking after his enemy. They walked in silence for a few blocks. "What do you want? Why are you here?"

"Just wanted to test something interesting. Thought you might like it too. It was really fun. Want me to tell you about it?" the madman asked stopping. He looked at the other patiently. "Yes, of course you would. Well, it's a wonderful magic trick. You'll get to go somewhere else for a little while. No clue where, maybe then you'll be happy to be around me when you get back. Buh bye."

"What?" Sherlock asked as he was poked roughly making him step backwards. "No."

"Good bye Sherlock," Jim whispered as everything faded to black. He felt his back collide with something not completely solid. He could feel it sliding from under his back as he lay still. He sat up quickly making what he lay on slide again. He looked down to see gold coins, jewels, goblets, and other valuables of gold surrounding him. He picked up the coins and looked closely. "What is this? They don't make these in London, or any other part of the world. Where am I?"


	2. Helpful

"H-hello?" came a small voice that sounded familiar. Sherlock looked around quickly. He inhaled quickly as he heard someone approaching. "W-who's there?"

"Um, my name is Sherlock. Could you possibly tell me where I am and who you are?" the consulting detective asked looking for the source of the voice. He froze as he saw a head appear and disappear behind a large mound of the treasure. "I-I saw you. Just step out where I can see you please. I mean no harm; I am just confused as to where I am."

"W-well, you are um, you are in the Lonely Mountain. How you have gotten in here I do not know. However you should be a little bit quieter as Thorin would be unhappy to know a man has come in here without him knowing," the other responded only poking his head out again. Sherlock frowned as he processed the words then looked at the mound where he was hiding. "I am Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins, you should probably follow me. You need to hide before any of them come down here."

"Where am I? If I am indeed in a mountain then why am I surrounded by this treasure hoard?" the man asked confused as he saw the hidden other. He looked carefully for a moment as he saw a smaller version of his friend with darker hair.

"Yes, well you are inside the treasure chamber of king Thorin. He is um up top right now yelling at the others. However, we should be going. Follow me and I shall take you to safety," the strangely smaller man replied. Sherlock nodded slowly as he stood to follow. He almost lost his balance as he stood atop the slick coins and followed the small person. "To further answer your question, I am taking you to one of the other rooms in this maze that I often go to when I am alone. The others won't bother you there."

"I'm sorry, but others?" the detective asked. Bilbo nodded.

"Dwarves. They are very proud and stubborn. And not at all fond of men at the moment. Sorry, Mr. Sherlock, I suppose you wouldn't know of a Hobbit. But that is what I am, here we are," the shorter replied as they left the low ceilings of the halls to a wide and tall room. "They shouldn't find you here, must be hungry I'd assume. I'll go find you some food."

"Thank you," Sherlock bit out as he remembered the manners John taught him. He sat waiting for the mini John to return. He examined the room deciding that it was old, roughly five hundred years or less. The corpses were only sixty or so. The clearing of a throat brought him to the small figure in front of him. "Oh, when did you come back?

"Only just now. Only took me a few hours to go up and come down. No worries. However the others will surely kill you if they know that you are here," Bilbo replied with a sad smile. "I shall try to get you out without their notice, hmm."

"Alright, thank you. Although, you said dwarves earlier and you are a hobbit, yes?"

"Yes, that is what I said earlier."

"Alright," Sherlock agreed taking the small portion of food from the hobbit. He shook his head as the smaller left. Then he remembered a series of movies and a book John had. The place and creatures he was surrounded by were from the fictional book called The Hobbit. He had been thrown into the book or movie somehow which was highly illogical. Shaking his head he thought of other places he could possibly be, but none were any more logical than his first conclusion. Then he remembered the encounter with Moriarty. 'This is what he meant. It must be some sort of hypnotism. I must be in a force coma that has put me here,' the genius thought angrily. _'No, if that were the case, I'd have more control over this and I'd be able to hear voices. Because I would have, no doubt, been admitted to a hospital. So, something else is happening to me. What?'_ he thought quickly, trying to think of the possible answers. He looked up as he heard someone breathing deeply in the room. "John?"


	3. Lake Folk

No answer. He blinked and remembered his current situation. The snoring came from the small form in the corner. He frowned seeing that it was not John. He stood and walked over to the shaking form. Sherlock went to take off his coat and noticed for the first time he was in fact in different clothing than his own. He took off the strange deer skin coat and covered the small creature. "Not John, Bilbo. This is all completely illogical and stupid."

"Master Baggins," came a deep gravel like voice. Sherlock quickly hid as loud footsteps came towards him. A short person came into the room with a dark frown over his face. "Wake up. We must find the stone."

"Mhm. C-coming Thorin. S-sorry, I, I will be right there," the hobbit groaned as he sat up. A frown came over the one named Thorin's face turned towards his coat. "I'll be right there Thorin."

"Be quick," the other growled. Bilbo sat up and frowned as he watched the other left. He looked at the coat covering his body.

"What?" he asked lifting it up and examining it. Then he looked around quickly like he had lost something. "Mr. Sherlock? Where are you?"

"I'm here, someone came in and I hid. Sorry," Sherlock replied stepping out from behind the corpses. He nodded as he took the coat back from the hobbit. "What stone? Who was that? What is going on?"

"The Arkenstone, very important. That was Thorin, and we are looking for the stone so that he may take his throne as king under the mountain. A very dull business I assure you. Now, follow me and I'll get you out of here," Bilbo spoke quickly. Sherlock nodded and followed quickly. He looked around seeing large halls and bridges surrounding him. A gasp escaped him as he was pushed roughly in the stomach. He looked down to see Bilbo pushing at his stomach. "Back, back, back."

"Why?" Sherlock hissed as he was forced back. A moment later voices filled the air coming towards him. He looked down at the hobbit.

"Give me your hand," the smaller hissed. The detective gave up his hand and watched as a gold ring was slid onto his pinky finger. He frowned as Bilbo turned around motioning for him to follow and stay silent. They slowly walked and passed several other gruff, but stout dwarves. "Hello everyone."

"Morning Bilbo," came Balin's voice. Sherlock turned and wondered why none of them could see him. He looked around as they all talked for twenty minutes before they continued on their way. He took a deep breath as they reached the wall at the gate.

"Here we are. I'll need my ring back," Bilbo said happily turning and looking for him. He smiled and looked at Sherlock as he became visible again. "There you are. Now, you'll have to climb down to get out, but be quick about it."

"Thank you, but where should I go after I've climbed down?" Sherlock asked very confused as he looked down the wall.

"Right, there is a small bank on the shore of the lake. There are other men there. They'll need help. Well, it was good to meet you Mr. Sherlock. Thank you very much for the meeting," Bilbo declared pushing a small hand out. The consultant carefully took the hand and gently shook it. "Well, good day. Do hurry."

"Thank you," Sherlock replied with a nod. He climbed down the wall and looked around carefully. He left the area and wondered around aimlessly. After the first day Sherlock found himself wandering around the shore of the lake. He found the small amount of survivors along the shore as they were still pulling what could still be used from the lake. He walked over and looked for the man giving orders. He found him in a huddle of men pointing to the mountain. "Excuse me, I need a word with Bard."

"Yes?" the man replied with a frown. He walked towards Sherlock cautiously. "I've never seen you before this. Who are you?"

"Sherlock," he answered extending his hand. Bard shook and nodded. "I was told you were in need of assistance by a friend. What shall I do to help?"

"The injured need care if you can help. Otherwise we need supplies for fires and shelters. Just help were you can," Bard instructed pointing. Sherlock nodded and walked to help the injured, only for more data on the conditions in which the medicine of this word were in. He frowned as he found very little and that it was very poorly developed. A short trip to the small group of trees nearby found many herbs that would treat injuries and illnesses. He gave them to a woman and explained how to use them before leaving again. He looked quickly for the firewood and kindling. As he expected the firewood and kindling was in as bad condition as the herbs and medicines. He found a group of men and instructed them to an area of dry wood and grass. "Thank you."

"No need for that. I just need something to distract myself with. This just seems the best way to do that. Although do you have anything to smoke possibly?" Sherlock replied quickly looking at the other. He waited as the man shook his head. "Damn. Fine, what did you want? You came over here to talk. What about?"

"Myself and many of the other men plan on going up to the city before the mountain for the treasure and blankets within it. I would ask that you stay here with the injured and sick since you have helped us a great deal to begin with." Bard declared with a solemn face. Sherlock frowned as he thought.

"I very greatly would like to help, but I need something to smoke. If you can find something for me to smoke I will help you. Until such a time, I shall do as I please. Which at the moment would be to look at my surroundings? Although I must ask what destroyed this town in a single night?"

"A dragon. He came down from his hoard of treasure inside of the mountain and destroyed our town in fire and rage. The dwarves that ventured there are surely dead and the treasure unguarded so we must get what is needed to help our people."

"Sorry to destroy your hopes but the dwarves are alive and have no intentions of helping you."

"How do you know that?"

"My friend that told me you needed help, he is in the mountain with them."

"You're speaking of the smaller one. The hobbit. He was of good character, but the dwarves are all selfish beyond belief."

"Yes, well, I think I'll be going that way for a short time."

"Why would you leave?"

"I am bored and need to smoke, however I have nothing so I wish to go find something. Good luck with your troubles and good morning."

"We will be moving to the remnants of Dale if you wish to join us," Bard declared with a nod. Sherlock nodded and continued away from the group towards another small grove of trees. He frowned as he looked for anything to entertain himself but found ultimately nothing. A slight glance towards the group of survivors declared that they were indeed heading to the ruins of what was once a great city. A sigh escaped him as he started back to follow. He thought long and hard of how he would have come to such a place. They stopped in the ruins of the city across from the mountain. "Find what can be used for fires. Use the ruins for shelter."

"Bard, what is your plan to deal with the dwarves now? You know they will offer you no help here?" Sherlock inquired cautiously. Bard turned to him grim faced.

"Then I must hope against hope," the man replied looking to the ground. He sighed heavily as he looked towards the mountain. "Come, help us."


	4. Changing The Story

"Sure. Why not? There is nothing else to do," Sherlock responded following. He sighed as he thought of how long he'd been away from Baker Street. Surely his absence hasn't gone unnoticed. Of all people Lestrade and John should have noticed. "So bored."

"Perhaps you might go and see if you can talk to your friend? See if he will provide us with blankets or other materials to keep my people warm?" Bard suggested as he shivered. Sherlock nodded as he walked towards the opening. "It will take you a long while if you walk. Wouldn't you rather ride?"

"I would thank you. However I want to walk. It will help me think," Sherlock replied with a nod. He continued towards the large mountain on foot. In a matter of hours he reached the opening from which he climbed a day before. "H-hello?"

"And a good morning to you my good sir. What may I assist you with?" the white haired dwarf asked as he looked down.

"Well, you see, the people of the lake wish for blankets if you can spare them. For they are cold and tired from the destruction of their home and have none of their belongings," Sherlock declared slightly hopeful that they would help. He waited for their answer as he looked up.

"I will have a short look around. No guarantees that I shall find any such thing," Balin called back. He left to look leaving the detective alone. He frowned as he became bored once again.

"Mr. Sherlock, what are you doing here?" came the soft voice of the hobbit. Sherlock felt himself smile at the sound of the familiar voice. "I thought you were with the people of the lake."

"I was, but they came here hoping against hope that they may find help from the dwarf king. One of your companions has just left to find some I believe," Sherlock responded hoping to hear Bilbo speak more. It occurred only now to Sherlock how much he seemed to care for the doctor. He actually missed the short blonde and his tea.

"Aw, Bilbo, I see you've been keeping our guest company," came Balin's old voice denying Sherlock's hope.

"Aw, yes, well. Good night Balin. Good night sir," Bilbo declared leaning his head over the stone for a nod. Sherlock smiled at the hobbit as he nodded.

"I found nothing save for a few old coats and a blanket. I hope they can be of service to you and your people," Balin called as he tossed the articles to Sherlock. He caught them with little trouble.

"Thank you," Sherlock called from behind them. He set them down to fold them and set on his way. He returned hours later as the sun was beginning to show. "Bard, they gave a blanket and a few old coats. Nothing more. Though I am sure they could provide more."

"It is appreciated all the same. Thank you," Bard replied as he took the cloth and gave it to others who were shivering fiercely. They thanked bard and retreated to their families. "What say you that we go back later and see if they can spare anymore?"

"It may be useless, but I could be wrong," Sherlock replied with a smile. They nodded to each other before a small girl came and pulled on Bard's sleeve. "Good morning, Bard."

"And to you Sherlock," came the reply as he was pulled. Sherlock sat and went to his mind palace. He walked calmly through the halls and into a room full of books. He single one out from the shelves and pulled it out. It was a slightly old copy bound in leather and well read. He flipped through the pages and frowned as he read. _'They die in the end and Bilbo returns home. How uneventful. However I do wish to have been able to see the dragon if I am stuck here for however long Moriarty deems necessary. Although, Bilbo does remind me of John. He cares too much for others even when undeserving of it. He should just abandon Thorin now. However I have just altered things by being here. Could that change the fate of this place? It's quite possible. Finally something entertaining!'_ the genius declared with a smile. He was torn from his mind palace as someone poked him. He opened his eyes and looked at the backs of several children as they ran. He sighed and looked up as a shadow overcame him. "What say you to that ride?"

"Yes," Sherlock replied deciding he would do all he could to alter the story as he pleased. They rode together to the stone wall and waited to be addressed by the person who watched.

"Who comes to the door of the King Under the Mountain and what do you seek?" came a deep commanding voice. Sherlock frowned as he sounded unkind and unwilling to help.

"Bard and Sherlock, we are friends of you from Lake town. We wish only for blankets and coats to warm our sick and our children. We only ask for that which you can spare," Bard called in reply. They waited as no reply came.

"I can spare nothing for men of Lake Town. Now be gone before I decide to do away with you!" the voice replied. Bard looked down in defeat.

"Now just a minute I will find you some blankets!" came the cheery voice of the hobbit. Sherlock smiled again as the small head poked over the stone before disappearing. He turned to Bard with a smile.

"What right do you have burglar to give away the belongings of my people?" the angered voice asked. Sherlock listened quietly as they heard no reply from Bilbo. A moment later the face of the dwarf called Thorin was peering over the stone at the two men. "Be gone with you. You shall find nothing here. Leave!"

"Very well," Bard replied with a bow. He looked to Sherlock as they turned their horses away from the wall of shattered stone. They could hear the retreating footsteps of the proclaimed king as they left.

"Mr. Sherlock! Bard!" came the hisses of the hobbit. They turned back to see more coats and blankets falling to the ground. "Take them and leave quickly."

"Thank you master hobbit. You are of great help," Bard whispered as he picked up the discarded articles. They rode quickly back to the camp in Dale.


	5. Injuries

The morning sun made Sherlock blink and frown as it hit is face. He pulled his coat over his eyes. _'Today I will help Bilbo escape from Thorin hopefully, maybe that will help. Having someone more familiar to me technically. Oh well, up now.'_ Sherlock thought sadly as he sat up and walked out of his small ruin. He looked for Bard cautiously. A deep dread filling his stomach oddly. The feeling was revealed as he set eyes upon row and row of gleaming armor of elves. "Sherlock, they came in the night. I haven't the slightest idea of why, but the elves have saved us."

"That is debatable. Have they told you why they've come?" the detective asked quietly. Bard shook his head as they looked around. "We must quickly find out the reason."

"I came to aid my friends of Lake Town and reclaim my gems from the dwarves. The jewels of my people rest inside that mountain and I wish for them to be returned." The great elf king came in front of the two men. Sherlock nodded in understanding.

"To reclaim what is yours you bring an army for what purpose?" Sherlock asked. He frowned as the king smiled.

"The dwarves my resist. If that happens I shall have no choice but to kill them and take what is mine," he answered, his smile turning to a scowl.

"I assure you they will have no business with someone who comes armed as such to negotiate," Bard declared shaking his head. The king nodded. "I would suggest the three of us go to negotiate without such arms."

"Very well, we shall. However if you're peaceful negotiation fails we will have little other choice," the king replied walking to his great antlered beast. They rode carefully to the great stone wall. "King Under the Mountain, we seek your council, that we may negotiate the return of that which is ours."

"Why should I give two men and an elf such a council?" Thorin asked with anger. He glared at them over the wall.

"You have caused the dragon to rise and therein destroy my home. After we showed such hospitality, you have repaid us with dragon fire and death," Bard called up to the dwarf. "We come to you in great need."

"The need of men is not my business, nor is the want of elves. Leave before I so choose to end you," Thorin replied angrily. Sherlock scoffed as they turned away. They rode back to the camp with in the ruins to find a tall man with a grey robe and hat and staff sitting among the people.

"Aww, you are the one the call Bard I presume," the man said with a deep, grave tone. Bard nodded. "Good, good, I am the wizard Gandalf. I do apologize for I am the one who urged them to reclaim their home under the mountain. Let me do what I can tomorrow to see that you've been given your share to rebuild your home."

"Thank you master wizard," Bard declared with a nod. He turned and left. Sherlock nodded as well and walked away. He wandered aimlessly around the ruins until something hit his mid-section. He looked down and saw nothing. He gasped as he felt something lean into him and wrap around his stomach.

"There is only one thing so small as to hug my middle. Bilbo, take off your ring," Sherlock declared with a smile. He sighed as the hobbit did as he was told and appeared. "Hello."

"Hello," Bilbo greeted happily. Sherlock pulled him to eat and sit by a fire. "I have a very important reason for coming down here. Please, I must speak to Bard and the king. You as well."

"Alright, they are this way," the man replied leading the hobbit to the table where the king, bard and Gandalf were conversing. Bilbo ran to the wizard and hugged him tightly.

"Bilbo Baggins," the wizard laughed. He hugged the Halfling tightly. "What has brought you here?"

"This, I believe if you use this Thorin will give you what you are owed," Bilbo declared pulling a white gem from his vest. Sherlock looked at it curiously as it seemed to give off its own light, like moonlight on water captured with in a small glass.

"Is that the stone you spoke of before?" Sherlock asked quickly. The hobbit nodded in answer as he handed the stone to Gandalf. The wizard nodded his approval before turning to the small creature.

"I should be going. Don't want them to realize I'm gone then. Good night," Bilbo whispered stepping away. Sherlock followed him quickly. "You really shouldn't be following me."

"Yes, well, I find it distracting. In a good way. You remind me of someone. I miss him a great deal," Sherlock declared walking alongside the hobbit.

"Tell me about him as we walk," Bilbo declared with a smile and a glance at the man.

"He was two heads taller than you with short blond hair. He did like tea quite a bit, liked to help people, even when they least deserve it. Just like you," Sherlock declared looking at the small person. "He was a very good man. I hope to see him again."

"You seem to miss him," Bilbo declared with a nod. The detective nodded in agreement. "Well, thank you Mr. Sherlock. Do take care on your way back."

"Thank you master Baggins," the detective replied with a smile. He bid the hobbit good night and returned to the camp. In the morning the elven king, Bard and Sherlock were ready to ride to the great wall. They journeyed carefully to the small hole in the mountain.

"Why have you returned?" came Thorin's angered voice. Sherlock looked at the stone in his hand as he lifted it.

"We come with an offering for a council. This stone for what you owe us all," Bard called as Sherlock presented the stone. "We will wait for your answer."

"How did you come of this stone? Did you steal it?!" the dwarf yelled down to them. A moment of silence followed before Thorin was yelling again. Then Bilbo's head was seen hanging over the edge of the wall. Sherlock resisted the urge to go and help the hobbit.

"If my burglar is of no further use to you then return him to me, do not kill him!" Gandalf yelled from behind. Sherlock shook his head as he looked at Thorin's eyes. He climbed off of his horse and waited. The detective looked to his left to see Bard's bow hanging on the saddle. Several plans formed as he took the bow.

"He is of little use to anyone. A burglar is always a thief and a liar," Thorin declared as he pushed Bilbo further over the edge. Sherlock took a deep breath as he saw the hobbit falling. He calculated quickly taking Bard's bow and an arrow and stopping the hobbit mid fall, pinning him to the stone wall.

"Thorin you fool!" Gandalf yelled up as Sherlock quickly made his way to the small creature.

"Just raise your arms and you will fall right out of your coat," the man instructed as Bilbo started to take quick shallow breaths. "It's alright, I will catch you."

"Let us hope for certain you do," the hobbit responded as he raised his arms slowly. He fell suddenly out of his coat and into the safe arms of his friend. "Oh thank goodness."

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked as he carried the hobbit away from the stone wall.

"I still have some wit about me, but I feel I would faint should you put me down," Bilbo answered with a smile. Sherlock returned the gesture. His expression changed as Bilbo's turned to one of worry, fear, and terror. It is a look Sherlock had seen once when he leapt from the top of a building. On his friend's face as he had jumped. John's face. He blinked and dropped the hobbit as he heard the whistle of an arrow. He gasped as it stuck in his back through his body and out of the front. "No, no, no, no, no, no, Mr. Sherlock, Mr. Sherlock. Oh no, please do not die."

"I'll be fine," Sherlock replied looking at the arrow in his abdomen. He walked to his horse swaying slightly, with Bilbo at his heels. Bard came over and helped him onto his horse as the hobbit climbed behind with great difficulty. Bilbo shook his head as he carefully held to Sherlock's body. When they reached the ruins of Dale, the man was pulled off of his horse and carried to the healers. Bilbo followed closely trying to stay close. "My, god John would kill me."

"As he should. Your friend John, he's the one I remind you of isn't he? I feel very much like hitting you and comforting you all at once. Though I shall refrain from either as your being tended too," the hobbit spoke quickly as Sherlock felt the arrow being broken. He smiled up at the small creature. "Come now, tell me of your friend."


	6. Goodbye

"John," Sherlock groaned as he sat up. Two gentle hands pressed him back to the bedding. "John."

"No, Bilbo. Although you did call him quite a bit if your sleep," the hobbit spoke softly. Sherlock opened one eye to see the smaller creature next to him with a grim smile. "Will you tell me more about him?"

"I miss him," the detective replied as he blinked slowly. His eyes adjusted to the light and everything became clearer. "He had the deepest blue eyes I'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. They were so clear, like the darkest blue on the horizon after to sun's come up on a summer's day. He was so determined to worry about me even when I didn't. I can't possibly tell him how much it meant to me that he always did that."

"Why can't you?" Bilbo asked sadly. Sherlock smiled as he turned to look at Bilbo.

"I made him mad before this. And now, I'm going to die here, from an arrow wound. It is an unfortunate end, however it was to protect someone, who I care for," the man responded. The hobbit looked flabbergasted as a hand came to rest on his face. He carefully reached up and took hold of the hand with both of his. He smiled sadly looking down at Sherlock. "Bilbo, why are you here and not helping the others? Thorin will realize his mistake soon and wish to apologize."

"I can't deal with dwarves at the moment. I'm dealing with what seems to be a love-struck human I should think. My goodness. If anyone had told me a year ago that I, Bilbo Baggins, would partake in an adventure, find a man who has fallen in love with the idea of something like me, and protected me I'd tell him to leave my presence and go back to whatever crazy place he'd call home," the creature laughed. Sherlock chuckled.

"If only people in London could be as accepting as the creature before me. I would enjoy it much more that way," the man replied as Bilbo held his hand to his small chest. "I'm sure you'd get along well with my John."

"John, he sounds like a good man. But I feel like you're making an unfair comparison. He sounds I like a much better person than me," Bilbo replied sadly. He looked at the man and frowned. "I am much lesser of a being than him."

"Don't speak this way about yourself. You are a good person. Small but good," Sherlock whispered pushing his hand back to the small cheek. He smiled as Bilbo let the hand stay. "Can I give you something?"

"Of course. Anything," the hobbit replied instantly.

"Come here please?" Sherlock asked. He leaned closer and gasped leaning back as he was gently kissed. "Please don't be mad at me for this. I just wanted to give you one thing to remember me by."

"Of course, I wouldn't be angry with you at all," Bilbo retorted angrily. He smiled as someone entered the ruin. "Gandalf, is there no way to help him?"

"I cannot my dear hobbit. Lord Elrond is the only one I know that could possibly help us. We may have to let it run its course," the old wizard replied. Bilbo shook his head.

"I don't want that to happen. If he dies, I'll never forgive myself. He'll have died for protecting me from my own friend," the hobbit whispered. Sherlock frowned again as he thought of the angered look on John's face if he were to die again.

"John...would be...just as...upset...as you...are right...now," Sherlock breathed. He felt the grip on his hand tighten.

"You say that as though you are going to give up, let yourself die. You're not are you?" the small creature asked worrying even more. His frown grew as Sherlock didn't answer. "Mr. Sherlock, talk to me. Please say something?"

"Don't worry, I'll live. I will be fine," Sherlock replied with a smile. Bilbo nodded and stood. "Where are you going?"

"To get you something to eat and drink. You need it," the hobbit declared standing. Sherlock and Gandalf watched him leave.

"He is stubborn," Sherlock sighed. He slowly looked at Gandalf. "You knew."

"That you were stalling, waiting for him to leave, yes. He has grown quite attached to you. He'll be very sad," the wizard croaked. Sherlock nodded slowly regretting letting go. "I'll tell him goodbye of course."

"Yes, that would be for the best," the man agreed as his eyelids grew heavy. "Goodbye, Middle Earth."

"Mr. Sherlock? Oh, no. No, no, no, don't, don't die," Bilbo sobbed as he held Sherlock's head. Sherlock smiled to himself as he felt the small hands on his head and heard the worried voice. 'Just like John.' Then everything was silent. Sherlock waited to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it never came.


	7. Home

"Sherlock. Sherlock!" came the worried shouts of what sounded like an angry hobbit. He felt someone taking his pulse and opening his eyes. "Sherlock, wake up now. Please, wake up."

"John?" he asked in confusion. The detective blinked and John hovered above him.

"Oh, Sherlock," John gasped as he hugged him. "Sherlock, thank God. I was so worried."

"John?" the detective asked slowly. He squinted looking at the face above him. "John, you're here?"

"Yes you fool. Who else would be here?" the doctor responded quickly.

"Lestrade?" Sherlock suggested. The shorter scoffed as he helped his friend sit up. "John, why aren't you on a date with, with whichever one it is now?"

"I haven't had a date let alone girlfriend in a few days. You disappeared and a dragon was flying around London. Honestly, it was a very interesting case. Where were you?" John asked as Sherlock went wide eyed.

"I missed an interesting case?" Sherlock exclaimed fully aware of everything. The veteran nodded slowly. "What happened? Tell me about it."

"Well, it started after you disappeared several days ago. Actually I think it might have been a whole week. A dragon flying around London and the one person I thought would be there to see the thing for himself was nowhere to be found," John declared with an eyebrow raised. The frown on Sherlock's face grew as he thought of a dragon flying around London.

"What did he take?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"What did he take? He's a dragon. Gold and jewels, that's what he'd be after. So what did he take?"

"Not sure, how I should answer this, but he took our flat as his "nest"," John replied with a frown. Sherlock turned and looked at him confused. "He took all of the gold or jewels he found and brought them to our flat."

"Why didn't he eat you?"

"I don't know! He said something about me being familiar in a strange land, so he'd keep me as a pet. That's why he didn't eat me," the doctor replied sounding almost sarcastic.

"So he really kept you as a pet?"

"Yes."

"Hm, that's an idea, John as a dragon's pet."

"Shut up Sherlock."

"It really is."

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"Did you hit your head where ever you were?"

"No, however I did realize my feelings do exist and I'm not a machine. Also that I have someone to give my affections to. That is if you'll accept them."

"Sherlock, was that you telling me you like me?"

"Yes, yes it was. Problem?"

"No, it's just, when people tell someone how they feel it's usually a little bit different."

"How so? Not sentimental enough?"

"Now, hold on right there. Sentimental? I thought you don't do sentiment."

"Only when it comes to you John. When you're involved I can do almost anything I want and beyond."

"Well, that was very, um, thank you Sherlock."

"Not only that, you've changed me so much that I can actually be around normal people. Hell, I've even been in a room with my brother for an hour because you showed me what it was to be patient and happy. As well as so many other things. I just hide it all because I'm scared. I'm scared of what would happen if I let anyone get close to me. If they get close they'll be taken away and I couldn't stand for that to happen," Sherlock replied looking at the ground. He frowned as he waited for the other to leave.

"Sherlock, I'm not going to leave you. I've stayed all this time haven't I? I'm not leaving just because you told me that," John whispered as he hugged his best friend. "You were there when Mary left me. No one else was. Sherlock, I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay right here until you tell me to leave, and that isn't happening unless you tell me to leave."

"John, you truly are too kind. I'm so sorry you've had to put up with me until now."

"Come on Sherlock, let's get you back to Baker Street so Mrs. Hudson can fuss over you. Then we can talk about this."

"Thank you John," Sherlock declared with a nod as he stood, He looked at the other with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"You just said thank you," John replied with a wide smile.

"Yes, it is something I haven't said enough to you John," Sherlock explained looking away from his friend. He turned back and hesitantly placed a kiss on John's cheek. The blonde stood blinking for a few moments before following the other back to Baker Street. "Thank you John."

* * *

Thanks for reading my story everyone. Please tell me if there is anything I need to change.


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